


short stories

by petiterosebud



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: 1984, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, House of Cards (US TV), The Tribes of Palos Verdes (2017)
Genre: Blood Kink, Breathplay, Choking, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, F/M, Face Slapping, Female Ejaculation, Gun Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Knifeplay, Latex, Manipulation, Masturbation, Medical Examination, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Shibari, Shower Sex, Spanking, Subspace, Swearing, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 05:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 12,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26347957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petiterosebud/pseuds/petiterosebud
Summary: a mix of short stories and drabbles i've written for cody's characters. chapters with * are nsfw.
Relationships: Duncan Shepherd & Reader, Duncan Shepherd & You, Duncan Shepherd/Reader, Jim Mason/Reader, Michael Langdon & Reader, Michael Langdon & You, Michael Langdon/Reader, Michael Langdon/You, Xavier Plympton/Reader, Xavier Plympton/You
Kudos: 59





	1. hawthorne!michael x fem!reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: domestic violence

You had been a private tutor for Hawthorne students before, usually when they’re nearing their exams, or students were struggling with a particular spell. It made you extra money and the boys usually kept their hands to themselves. 

It’s how you met your warlock boyfriend Vincent, a suave smooth talker who practically had you melting from words alone; a teacher at the school who specialised in divination.

One day you were called in by Ariel himself out of the blue, “We need you to teach him.” 

You took a sip of your tea, “ _Vitalum Vitalus_ cannot be taught Ariel, either he wields the power or he does not.”

“He has the ability, it’s there, it’s just not,” he struggles to find the word, “ _controlled_.”

You place your tea back down, “Explain,” putting your hands on your lap.

“Perhaps he could show you,” the doors in the room part suddenly, and in walks a young man, gold hair shimmering in the candlelight, and a small smile on his lips. He looks at you with slight interest before turning to Ariel. 

“Michael,” Ariel gestures to you, “this is [Y/N],” you smile and nod in greeting, “she would like you to perform _Vitalum Vitalis_ for her.” 

Michael looks towards you, hesitation obvious, and looks back to Ariel, “I would rather not, sir.”

You choose that moment to speak, “Michael, I am here to help,” you offer him an encouraging smile, “I need to see you perform the spell so I can see what it is that’s holding you back from reaching your full potential,” you pull out a recently deceased mouse from your work bag, “Show me, please?” holding it up to him in your palms.

He looks to Ariel and then back to you, and slowly he approaches, hands hovering over the mouse.

He looks at the small, delicate rodent, eyebrows furrowing in his concentration. You can feel the energy building within him, the magic flowing into his palms and you watch as the mouse breathes for a split second and then it collapses. Dead again.

Michael lets out a frustrated sigh.

“It’s okay,” you place the mouse onto your lap, “this is something we can work with,” 

You look to Ariel, “If Michael wants my tutoring, he can have it,” you look up at the blonde, “and we will start tomorrow.”

* * *

Michael was… _special_. If that’s how you were to describe him. He watched with such intensity as you described various techniques that could help him with his struggle. When it came to practice, he would persevere until his nose was bleeding and exhaustion was evident in his eyes. You would have to force him to rest, practically dragging him to his bed and tucking him in. He would always be able to bring back a soul for a few moments but then it’d flicker out of existence, unwilling to stay.

One day he got angry, flipping the table and you could feel the flames from the fireplace spike and flicker into the room.

“Nothing is happening,” he shouted, storming around, “I have the seven wonders to perform in just _days,_ and I can’t even bring a fucking mouse to life,” books shoved off the shelf, angry tears running down his cheeks. 

“Michael,” your voice calm, approaching him slowly, “you can do this.” 

He scoffs, shaking his head and sniffling.

You grab his face, directing him towards you, wiping the tears away with your thumbs, “I wouldn’t be here if I truly didn’t think you could do this, okay?”

He smiles, another tear trickling from his lovely blue eyes, and he nods, “Okay.”

You stroke his cheek, he leans into your touch ever so slightly that you don’t even notice, “Okay, now you should rest, and we’ll go back to this in the morning.”

He nods again.

You grin, and pat his head, “Good boy, and drink some chamomile tea. It’ll help calm you.”

You hear a noise at the door and turn; you’re sure you see the shadow of a person but it’s gone so quickly you think it must be your imagination. You turn back to find Michael also looking towards the door curiously, and you shrug, brushing it off.

* * *

Rumours were bound to start with the private lessons you were giving Michael. Teenage boys were bored, even magical ones, and hormonal; nothing gave them more excitement than the idea of a student fucking a tutor.

It wouldn’t have bothered you so much if your boyfriend hadn’t believed the sordid rumour.

“-such a fucking slut,” he shouts, pointing at you, his face red and jaw clenching.

More tears pour down your cheeks and you shake your head, struggling to get words out as a sob wrecks your throat, “I haven’t done anything, I’m his tutor, I’m helping him.”

He scoffs, “I’m sure you did teach him a thing or two.”

Something snaps within you and you slap him, “I didn’t fuck him,” you hiss. 

His eyes widen, hand hovering over the red handprint on his cheek and you see the moment in those eyes, where he decides he’s going to hit you back. You flinch back, ready for whatever he’s going to do, arms held up and eyes closed.

But nothing comes.

You open your eyes to find your boyfri- ex boyfriend, as still as a statue, and behind him stands Michael, holding his arm out, keeping Vincent in place.

Michael’s fist clenches and you can hear Vincent begin choking, and some part of you would love to see him suffer, but you were a life bringer, a product of pure light.

You run to Michael holding onto his arm, and plea for him to stop.

“He hurt you,” refusing to take his eyes off him. 

“I know,” you sniffle, “just make him leave the room, just make him leave. Don’t kill him.” 

He sighs deeply, clearly unsatisfied with your request, but he flicks his wrist and robotically Vincent walks out. Another flick and the door shuts behind him and locks.

The realisation of what could have happened has you falling to your knees, sobs pouring from you, and you feel Michael sit beside you on the floor.

You wipe at the wetness on your cheeks and nose with your sleeve, and you hate that Michael is here to see you this way. You feel something touch your hair, so gentle and barely there that you’d think it were a breeze if you weren’t underground. He’s closer to you than you originally thought feeling his breath on your cheek, “Don’t cry,” he whispers, and he’s closer now, his nose running along your skin.

You instinctively lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder and he strokes your hair carefully as if you’re made of glass.

He kisses your forehead and your eyes flutter at the touch, the intimacy overwhelming you, butterflies tickling your stomach.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighs, his hand reaching up to cup your chin, making you look at him. 

“Michael,” you choke, “We can’t-”

He leans down closer and closer to you, his lovely mouth hovering above yours and he murmurs, “Everybody already thinks we are,” his thumb traces your parting lips, “So we might as well just do it.”


	2. outpost!michael x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: rough fingering, blood play, biting, choking

“I want you,” His hand grazes your shoulders as he walks behind you. You hear him crouch beside you, his breath fanning up your neck to your ear. It makes you shiver. 

He whispers, so delicate, but rich and seductive, “Do you want me?” 

You breathe deeply, heat rising in your cheeks as his fingertips run across your collar bone and up your neck until he reaches your chin, and he turns your head towards him. 

He looks deeply into your eyes, and you find yourself lost in his.

“Do you?” He leans closer into you, your lips just barely touching.  
“Yes,” You breathe, a weight lifting off your shoulders at the admission. 

He strokes your cheek, “Good girl,” and he closes the gap between you, his hand reaching deeply into your hair, holding you tightly in place. 

You whimper into his mouth, his tongue running across your bottom lip. 

He groans, and tugs your head back, your throat bared for him. 

You feel the tip of his tongue work it’s way up your neck, tasting your skin, feeling your blood pulsing beneath. 

“You’ll be good for me, right?” You feel him speak against your skin, lips so gentle and soft. 

“Yes, Sir,” You answer, breathless and light headed. 

He hums in approval, “Michael, you may call me Michael.” 

“Yes…Michael,” Testing it on your mouth. 

You hear him breathe deeply in satisfaction, and then he stands, “Come on,” He holds his hand out for you. Slowly you reach up and grab it, pulling you out of the chair. 

He leads you into another room, a bed made up of fine deep red silks catches your eye, glowing from the flames of the fireplace. 

You both stop beside the fireplace, and he walks behind you. He leans down to your ear and he whispers softly, “I’m going to take off your dress.” 

He seems to pause, as if waiting for your approval, his hand hovering over the space between your shoulders. 

“Okay,” you say, barely a whisper. And you hear the zip, the feeling of your purple dress loosening, the sleeves falling down your arms. 

He pulls it down your body, settling onto the floor. Instinctively you step out of it and move down to pick it up. 

He holds onto your wrist, “Leave it,” directing you back up to him. 

He stands in front of you now, his eyes wandering over your body, his hands beginning to follow. He touches your collar bone first, fingertips grazing just above the white smock that you wear beneath the dress, and then down to the edge of one of your breasts. You shudder and look away from him, afraid to see any disapproval. 

“Remarkable,” He seems to say to himself, “You’re so sensitive.” 

You cheeks heat up even more than you thought possible, you’re sure your blush is reaching your chest now. 

He moves lower to your corseted waist, and then he pauses. 

“Turn around,” He orders. 

You comply quickly. 

You feel him tugging at the laces of your corset, unravelling the tight contraption from around you. You sigh in relief as it loosens and then he opens the busk and it’s off. He lets it drop to the floor, and he pauses. Slowly, as if hesitant, an arm wraps around your waist pulling you tight into him, his entire front pressing into you.

You feel his hardness settle into the curve of your back, and you gasp gently at the sensation. 

With his free hand he moves your hair to one side, revealing the skin of your neck to him. 

“You’re being so good for me,” He breathes, “I think you deserve a treat.” 

He reaches down to your thigh, pulling your smock up slowly until it reaches your waist and you’re bared for him. You feel shaky and nervous. 

His fingertips stroke the juncture between your thighs. 

“No underwear,” He remarks, “Maybe you’re not so good after all,” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Open your legs, my dear,” He nips on your ear. You do so, letting out a breath of air you find you’ve been holding. And then his entire hand is pressing into your clit and you gasp, jerking your hips back into him. 

He hisses, and you feel his cock pulse against you. 

“Sorry,” You let out quickly, panic rearing through you, “I’m sorry Michael.” 

He hushes you, stroking his fingertips through your pussy slowly, calming you down slightly, “You’re so fucking wet,” He groans, and kisses your throat. 

You whimper, hips bucking up into his hand, and he suddenly pinches your clit. 

“Fuck!” Eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

You can feel the wetness beginning to drip down between your thighs. 

“You liked that,” he sounds in awe and out of breath himself. 

The arm around your waist moves up, his hand wrapping itself around your throat, fingertips pressing into the sides. 

“You like it when it hurts, don’t you?” he growls teeth dragging across your shoulder, his hand moving from your throat, squeezing your face. 

You don’t answer. 

He slaps your pussy, “Don’t you?” He demands. 

You cry, nodding against the hand now holding your face, “Yes”

His tone mocking, “Yes what?” 

“Yes, Michael,” 

“Good girl,” He purrs, continuing to stroke your swollen clit. 

He goes back to holding your throat again, tightening his grip, watching your eyes glaze over.

You’re so close, you can feel you breath quickening, your pussy pulsing as it’s nearing your climax, the sensation of gratification bubbling in your stomach. 

You find yourself letting out a litany of, “Please” over and over, the bucking of your hips becoming erratic and uncontrollable.  
And then he bites down so hard you’re sure that the wetness on your neck is your blood and not his spit. 

You let out a quiet scream, and you’re cumming into his hand. He grabs your face and his bloody mouth presses against yours. The sweet, metallic taste makes you whimper, your tongue coming out into his mouth to taste more.


	3. fireandreign!michael x reader

“Where is she?” He growls, storming over to Cordelia, tears watering down his cheeks. 

“Both of their souls are hidden by a spell only I can break. You’ll never see them again,” she replies coldly.

He falls to his knees, feeling hopeless, grief coursing through his body.

“You’re alone,” she rubs it in.

“I’m never alone,” He gasps, “I have my father.”

She walks closer, “Where is he now? Why did he let this happen?” 

Every question feels like a slap to his face. 

She crouches down to his level, “You don’t have to follow this path your father laid out for you. You can write your own destiny. You can still turn away. There’s humanity in you,” She smiles softly, “I see it,” She stands back up, “If you come with me maybe we can find it,” She holds her hand out for him, “Together.” 

He looks down to her hand, hesitating, he could yes. He could turn away, he could walk into the light, he reaches up to hold onto her hand and she pulls him up…but that wouldn’t bring his Miss.Mead and Y/N back. He had seen his Miss.Mead go up in flames, and he had no idea how you had suffered. Cordelia’s lack of remorse had only ignited his hatred more. It strikes through him like lightning and he feels himself pull Cordelia towards him.

He snarls into her face, “Somehow, someway, I’m gonna bring them back. And then I’m gonna kill every last one of you,” He rips his hand out of her grip and he storms away, satisfied at the shock and fear in her eyes at his promise. 

You had lost count of the days you had been locked in this room.

Your ankle is sore and swollen from the cursed shackle that wraps around it, rendering you without your powers. 

You lay in a bed sparse of a blanket, only one pillow to rest your head upon. 

“Punishment,” Cordelia had said, “You will not be burned, but instead you will never see him again, you will never use your powers again, and you will never set foot outside again.”

You often thought death would have been the better option, but Michael was still out there. He could still find you. He was the only hope you had left. 

He was the only thing that made you want to keep living. 

You curl in on yourself, losing your mind into another daydream about Michael when you hear the screams below. 

You sit up quickly, eyes wide, agitation and excitement coursing through you. 

Could it be? 

“Michael!” You scream. 

Then gunshots. 

That shuts you up. The Michael you know wouldn’t use guns. You bite your lip in consideration. You could die either way; starve to death as it sounds like no one will be bringing you food any time soon, or get shot quickly. Get it over with. 

It’s silent now you realise and you come to a decision. 

“Michael?” You shout and repeat over and over. 

You hear footsteps down the hall, coming closer and closer. Your breathing quickens in fear but still you shout his name. 

The door opens. 

He’s there before you, so beautiful, hair perfectly coifed, skin glowing…his eyes wide in shock.

You feel tears running down your face, relief and disbelief that he’s here. 

His hand reaches out toward you, careful and hesitant, and then you see movement behind him. 

He turns suddenly, “No, not her,” He orders the woman, and she lowers her gun wielding arm back down, watching you unsurely. 

He kneels before you, his hands reaching out to touch your face and when his fingertips touch your cheeks, the tears from his eyes become so heavy you hear them drop onto the skirt of your nightdress. 

“They told me you were dead,” He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. 

You inhale sharply, a sob wrecking your body, “They lied. They didn’t want you looking for me.” 

“I believed them,” his hands reaching into your hair, tucking the strands behind your ears as if he wants to see more of your face, “I’m so sorry,” His voice breaks, and he sniffles. 

“No, don’t you do that,” You grip his cheeks between your hands forcing him to look into your eyes, “The spell they used hid me entirely from you, it was as if I was erased. There was nothing you could do. You couldn’t have known.” 

He nods weakly. 

“I’ve missed you,” You lean closer into him, your lips hovering above his. 

He rubs his nose gently against yours and a soft giggle erupts from your mouth, and then he’s kissing you and you sigh into him. 

“Let’s get you out of here,” Another kiss. And then you remember the chain wrapped around your ankle. 

You pull back, “That might be a slight issue,” And you look down pointedly at your leg. His gaze follows yours and he reaches down to touch the chain. 

You watch as his eyes roll back into his head, a breeze runs through the room, and in moments the chain shatters, the spell broken. 

You gasp as you feel your powers return, you raise a palm and without thinking flames rise from it. You grin looking towards Michael to find him smiling widely back at you. 

He holds his hand out. 

“Now can we go?”


	4. hawthorne!michael x robichaux!reader 1/2*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: rough oral sex, degradation, manipulation, michael just being a dick really

It could only be him who took the book you need from the library. He knew that you were going to be retrieving it that evening for some last minute cramming. Hell, you’d even said it to him at lunch that day whilst conversing over transmutation techniques. 

Storming down the corridor in your slippers and nightdress, you finally come across his room, and you knock sharply. 

You can hear shuffling from the other side of the door, and finally it opens to reveal the blonde, donned in only a black silk nightgown.

The sight makes your mind come to a halt. 

“Yes?” his eyebrows raising, waiting for you to speak. 

Quickly you shut your gawping mouth and snap yourself out of it, “My book.” Fighting the urge to roll your eyes at yourself. 

With a sigh he turns, gesturing for you to come in. 

“I shouldn’t even be in here,” you mutter as you walk into his room, “If we get caught, I’m blaming you.” 

Michael snorts softly, “Please, if we get caught, you’d get most of the blame. You’re in my room, if you recall?”

“Just give me the book please so I can leave,” arms crossing across your chest, tapping your arm impatiently. 

He smiles arrogantly as if he knows something you don’t and walks across the room to his desk, rifling through the sheets of paper and books. 

You can’t help looking him up and down, drawn to the way the silk robe clings to his body…almost like he has nothing on underneath? 

Your eyes widen in realisation, and then he’s turning around and maybe the belt of it gets caught on the wood of the desk or _something?_ But you’re given an eyeful of flesh and Michael doesn’t even move to cover himself up, holding the book out for you. 

Blushing you turn away quickly, “You’re not, um,” licking your lips nervously, “wearing anything under that, are you?”

The slam of a book being thrown back onto the desk makes you jump, and you blush even harder.

The heat of his body presses against you. 

“Does it excite you?” His breath tickling the shell of your ear. You didn’t realise he was that close. 

“I just want my book,” you whimper, shivering as he stokes your arm. 

He hums in mock sympathy, “And you can have it, after you do something for me.” 

“But if we get caught-“ 

“I’ll deal with your headmistress,” tucking your hair behind your ear. 

You bite your lip, “What do you want?”

“Get on your knees,” he orders, shoving you forward, away from him. 

You could just walk out without the book, ignoring his demands and just hope you pass the exam in the morning on a whim…but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t becoming wetter by the second. 

Shaking slightly you kneel onto the wooden floor, hands crossed in your lap, awaiting further orders. 

He circles you slowly, like a predator eyeing up his dinner. 

Suddenly a hand latches into your hair sharply, pulling your head back, and you gasp. 

“Keep it open,” he says softly from behind you. 

You relax your mouth, holding it open for him and he slides a finger inside. Instinctively your lips wrap around the digit, sucking him down. He sighs deeply, “I knew from the moment I saw you that your mouth was made for this,” adding another finger. 

He speeds up, spit now dripping down your chin, and you feel positively filthy, whimpering around fingers. He adds another and you almost gag as he shoves them in even further. 

“Count yourself lucky I’m preparing you,” he growls, removing them with a pop. 

He steps around you now, his cock jutting out of the nightgown, thick, and slick with precum.

You lick your lips, waiting for instructions, and then he’s stroking himself, spreading your spit and his wetness all over until it’s soaking. 

“Please,” you squirm, mouth watering at the sight, desperate to wrap your lips around him. 

With a smirk he advances towards you, your mouth ready and open, waiting to be ruined. And _fuck,_ does he deliver, shoving his entire length down your throat. You gag but he holds you in place, even wrapping a hand around your throat, pressing against it. 

“Fuck,” he groans, pulsating inside your mouth, thrusting back and forth. Already more spit is slipping out the corners of your swollen lips, dripping down your chin onto your lap. 

He pulls out entirely, “Stick your tongue out,” he breathes, rubbing himself over your face, covering you in your own spit. You do so and he runs his length up and down it, “Such a fucking slut, all this for a book?” 

You can only moan, your face wet and dripping, mouth open wide for more. 

“Shut the fuck up,” shoving himself back inside you, “You don’t want to get caught by your coven with my dick down your throat, do you?” 

He fucks your face even harder, growling and groaning, completely out of control, and you just take it. And then he’s cumming down the back of your throat, pulsating and throbbing, and all you can do is swallow it all down. WIth one last thrust he pulls himself out, shoving you onto the floor. 

You’re gasping for air, dizzy and in a daze as you just lie there. 

Something lands beside you with a thud, and you glance to see it’s the book. 

“Close the door on your way out,” he murmurs from across the room as he enters his en suite, door closing behind him. 


	5. hawthorne!michael x robichaux!reader 2/2*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: sex in a broom closet, exhibitionism, rough biting, blood play, fingering, fuckboy!michael, squirting

You were late yet again; quickly pacing through the maze that is Hawthorne Academy. Yes, you hadn’t been here long so at least you had some sort of excuse, but you had also overslept _again;_ thoughts of Michael keeping you up late at night. 

It was exhausting. 

The surroundings begin to look familiar and you’re sure you’re close to Behold’s classroom, when a hand snatches at your wrist, pulling you into a dark closet, a warm body pressing against you. 

“Miss me?” 

Michael _fucking_ Langdon. 

Of course it’s him.

“Really? A broom closet?” already turning, ready to let yourself out, only he flips you around, pushing you roughly against the door. 

“I’m not playing, Michael,” you squirm, considering setting fire to him in that moment. 

He leans in close to you, his warm breath brushing across your cheek, “Neither am I,” his lips pressing to your jaw, in slow, languid kisses. 

“We can’t do that here,” you breathe, body already surrendering to him. 

“Watch me,” he purrs and you can feel his hand gliding up, cupping your chin, thumb pressing into your mouth, “Remember last week?”

Your cheeks flare with heat, your thighs tensing together, trying to relieve some of the pressure. 

“Hm?” he lets out a soft laugh, “I remember it very clearly; you on your knees, me fucking this pretty mouth,” lips kissing the curve of your neck. 

He removes his thumb and you feel a strand of spit cling to your chin, breaking you out of the momentary spell. 

“I remember you using me, and ignoring me for over a week,” you snap, wishing you’d bitten his thumb off. 

He snorts quietly, “Poor baby,” a mocking voice, another kiss to your throat, “Let me make it up to you,” his hand slipping under your skirt, tracing the skin of your thigh. 

You let out a shudder of a breath, your eyes widening at his suggestion, and your legs seem to have a mind of their own, opening up for him. 

“Good girl,” cupping your mound with the palm of his hand. You whimper, your hips bucking up into his touch. 

“Fuck you,” you breathe, and he laughs.

“You’re so cute,” his mouth pressing against your cheek, “Let’s put you in a better mood,” dipping his hand underneath your panties, skin to skin, sloshing your juices around with his fingers. 

“Is this all for me?” dipping into your entrance teasingly, only to pull back, rubbing into your clit. 

Your head rears back, thumping onto the wooden door, biting your lip to keep quiet, muffling your moan. 

“Well, is it?” And he pinches you then, your sensitive bud at his mercy. 

“Yes!” You squeak, scrabbling for purchase, latching onto his shoulders.

“Of course it is,” his voice deep and seductive, tenderly stroking you now. 

“Please, Michael,” and he just laughs, a low chuckle in the back of his throat. 

“You want my cock, princess?” pressing himself into your thigh, fingers curling inside you. 

You whimper, unable to form words when he’s practically swirling your insides around. 

He hums, “Say you do and I’ll give it to you,” he murmurs into your ear. 

“Please-“ you let out a high pitched whine, “I want it.” 

“Want what?” continuing to tease you. 

Your cheeks burn with heat at your next words, “Your cock.” 

He removes his hand then, and you groan at the emptiness. The sound of him pulling down his zipper has you squirming in anticipation. 

“That wasn’t too hard was it,” he says with a mocking tone, and then he moans. 

“Not as hard as I’m making you apparently,” a smirk on your lips. 

Suddenly his hand is grabbing your face, cheeks squishing together, the back of your head hitting the door, “Do I need to shove my cock down your throat to shut that bratty mouth?” He growls, and you can feel him breathing on your lips, “Answer me.”

“No,” you whisper, your head fuzzy and dazed, “I’m sorry.” 

He releases you, fingertips stroking your cheek now, “Good girl, now open your legs.” 

You do so, and he hikes one of them up around his waist without warning, pushing against you, and you can feel his length pressing into your hot centre. He grinds into you, hot and teasing, and you almost begin begging again when he yanks your panties to the side, and slides into you in one fluid motion. You gasp, your eyes watering at the initial sting of the stretch and you can feel yourself pulsing around him as you adjust. 

He groans into your ear but still doesn’t move. You realise he’s actually waiting for you to relax and a warm feeling settles in your stomach at this kindness. 

With a sigh you begin grinding down against him and he shudders at the sensation, “Please,” you sob. 

He hushes you, “You need to be quiet,” and a bell rings signalling the end of class, and he chooses that moment to begin fucking up into you. 

You bite your lip trying to stifle your moans, and you can hear the steps of the students walking to and from their lessons on the other side of the door. 

He picks up the pace, sending shivers up your spine, your legs almost collapsing from the sensation. 

A loud cry slips from your mouth, quickly muffled by the palm of Michael’s hand and you can hear someone’s steps pausing momentarily outside. 

He pulls his hand away, and slows his pace, grinding up inside you gently, and somehow that’s worse than when he was fucking you hard. It’s torture, and overwhelming; tears running down your cheeks. You’ve bitten your lip so much now you can taste blood. 

He rests his head on your shoulder, hot breath grazing your skin, and you lean down, forehead resting on his own. He must change the angle of his hips or something as suddenly he’s brushing against _that_ spot inside of you and just as you’re about to let out a loud yelp you instinctively bite onto him. He grunts, fucking you harder, dick twitching inside you. 

With every moan and whimper your biting becomes rougher tearing into his flesh. And whilst you’re muffling the sounds you’re making, his only become louder. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” he hisses into your ear, gripping your thigh tightly, somehow lifting your leg even higher, his cock deepening more than you thought possible.

He’s completely inside you now…and relentless. 

Your orgasm hits you suddenly and without warning, warm liquid dripping down the inside of your thighs. You can taste blood in your mouth as you muffle your pathetic cries into his throat. 

He follows soon after, a long groan ripping from his lips, his cock pulsing and emptying inside of you. The sensation is…indescribable. 

“I think I’m going to keep you,” he breathes heavily. 

You shiver at his words. 


	6. outpost!michael x fem!reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: mention of a medical condition where reader is unable to have children.

You don’t know what the reason is for your mood. Perhaps it’s the new arrival; Langdon, who’s now seated at the head of the table where Venable usually sits, analysing every single one of you as though you’re science experiments.

Or perhaps it’s Venable, now seated opposite yourself for the third night in a row, her lips constantly pursing in distaste. Having to see her every time you glance up is enough to sour anyone’s mood.

You take a sip of your water, wishing so badly it was some sort of alcoholic beverage, shifting uncomfortably in your overbearing dress.

Venable clears her throat turning to Langdon beside her, pointedly looking towards you, “Have you had the pleasure of interviewing (Y/N) yet, Langdon?”

He looks towards you, and you immediately turn away, hiding your face with your glass, taking another sip.

“I can’t say I have,” tilting his head as though you’re a fascinating specimen.

You can feel a heat in your cheeks rising and you’re sure the others are now taking an interest in their conversation.

“Her medical file is very interesting, surely you’ve read that?” She smiles coldly, glancing to you, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

Surely she won’t bring this up at the dinner table of all places, your eyes narrowing at her.

Langdon doesn’t answer, taking a sip of his own glass of water, obviously becoming bored of whatever Venable’s fishing for.

“I don’t think she’d be a viable candidate with what you’re looking for,” she licks her lips, “You see, (Y/N) can’t have children-“

Slamming the glass onto the table, the water spilling over the sides, you stand, the fight or flight response pulsing through you.

“That’s classified information, Ms. Venable,” Langdon murmurs over his glass.

“She doesn’t care,” you hiss, “Perhaps if someone removed that cane from up her ass, she might actually feel something.”

In the background you hear Gallant and Coco gasp together, clearly excited for a little drama at the dinner table.

Venable looks up at you with a deadly glare, glancing to someone behind you. You turn to find Mead there, clearly awaiting orders.

Your stomach rolls with dread, yet you refuse to show any fear.

“Perhaps you need a lesson, (Y/N). You seem to have forgotten your place here,” a hand grabs at your bicep ready to drag you out of the room.

But then Langdon stands and everyone looks to him, “Allow me, Ms.Venable,” gesturing to you, “I haven’t dispensed a punishment in a while and I do miss it,” his gaze ravenous.

Her mouth drops, trying to think of an excuse, “Surely you have more important matters to attend to?”

“More important than the misbehaviour of a possible candidate for the sanctuary?” raising an eyebrow at her.

Venable’s mouth clicks shut then, tilting her chin up to Mead, signalling to release you. She does so and Langdon grabs onto the same arm in her place, dragging you out of the room. Glancing back you can see some looks of concern and worry, particularly from Emily and Gallant. Everyone else seems resolved to your fate.

It’s a struggle to keep up with him, with his wide steps and long legs; you’re practically running alongside him to wherever he’s taking you.

Finally you reach a door and with the wave of his hand you hear it unlock for him. He gestures for you to go first and cautiously you do, watching him the entire time, never letting your guard down completely.

He closes it once he steps in, and you hear it lock itself.

You gulp quietly, ready to accept your punishment.

“You have quite the sharp tongue,” his eyes looking you up and down. It feels as though he’s mentally undressing you.

He approaches you until his chest is almost to your face, looking down at you with a chilling smirk, “I think you’d be the perfect soul to have at my sanctuary,” his hand reaching up to stroke your jaw.


	7. jim x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: masturbation, fantasising about sex with jimmy boy, getting caught masturbating

Medina’s soft breathing was all you could hear as you lay wide awake. You shuffle slightly, trying to find a comfortable position but all you could think about was Jim; where he could be and what he’s doing.

You sigh, recalling when you had arrived earlier to the house; Medina’s excited grin as she opened the front door.

“Please, tell your mother thank you for letting me stay over,” throwing your backpack to the floor.

“ _Well_ …about that,” she bit her lip, “She’s not here.”

Your eyes widened, “What?”

She shrugged, “Visiting our grandparents,” a small smile on her face.

“And Jim?” you try not to sound _too_ interested, lest Medina became suspicious. 

She mumbled something about him going out with friends fiddling with the hem of her shirt, clearly unhappy at whatever he was doing. So you started talking about films you could watch that night, and the snacks you had brought over, to distract her.

And now, here you were, after stuffing your faces and binging on Netflix; Medina conked out beside you in her bed, and your mind racing a mile a minute. 

You decide you can’t lay there anymore and climb out of the bed, bare feet padding to the kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of water, taking little sips as you make your way back, pausing when you pass Jim’s room.

You slowly walk towards his door, hand gently turning the handle to reveal darkness, the bedroom void of any human presence. You sigh and walk in, turning on the lamp beside his bed; illuminating the room.

Placing your glass down, you sit at the edge of the mattress, fingers mindlessly tracing the patterns on the soft bed sheet.

You had never truly pined over someone before…until Jim.

His kindness and sensitivity had you drawn into him like a moth to a flame. A glance of his boyish smile and you were weak at the knees. But he seemed to be drifting away for weeks now since their parent’s separation.

You groan, allowing yourself to fall to your side, nuzzling your face into the pillow. You take a deep breath, inhaling Jim’s scent and you sigh wistfully, eyes fluttering closed.

If you do that you can imagine him here, laying beside you, his warm body pressing into your own. `You’d be stroking his brown locks, staring into his bright blue eyes…a cheeky smile on his face.

Maybe he’d kiss you, softly a first, so gentle and hesitant, as if he were afraid to touch you. But then they’d deepen, your heartbeat’s pounding together as one, cheeks flushing as you both mindlessly grind against one another, eager for more.

You whimper quietly into the empty room, thighs clenching to soothe the ache forming between them.

It doesn’t give you much reprieve and your hand instinctively reaches down pushing under the waistband of your shorts, rubbing into the ache. Your panties are soaked through, hips bucking up at the touch, your legs parting for more access.

You gasp, eyes closing again, becoming lost to the fantasy.

You know he’d be a gentle lover, but no less passionate; fucking you hard into the mattress as he groans at the tightness of your pussy.

Biting your lip to silent your whimpers, you circle your fabric covered clit with your fingertips. You _need_ more, and this just isn’t enough.

You moan, shoving your panties to the side, and you almost feel like crying from the feel of flesh on flesh, the dripping wetness soaking your fingertips.

A sharp inhale from the open door knocks you out of your fantasy world, eyes snapping open.

Jim’s standing there, staring down at you, eyes wide, and his cheeks flushing a lovely red. 

Frozen; you can’t move, can’t breathe, and your _fucking_ hand is still inside your panties, pressed into your pussy. You look away, embarrassment seeping from your pores, and you can feel tears threatening to spill.

You move to pull your hand out when Jim suddenly snatches your wrist, pausing your movement entirely. You didn’t even notice him getting closer, too lost in your panic. You hesitantly look up at him, biting your lip, and he’s staring at you intensely as though he’s trying to figure out his next move.

His palm slides from your wrist to your hand slowly, directing it back between your legs, “Don’t stop,” his voice deep and breathless.


	8. duncan x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: fingering, daddy kink

The first thing you did that morning was phone in sick to work; voice groggy, head pounding as you speak into the phone. Seconds after finishing the call you’re back to sleep, wrapped in your thick blanket, keeping out the cold air. 

It only feels like mere minutes you’ve been asleep when a knock at the door wakes you. Slowly you sit up, muscles protesting at the movement, eyes squinting at the daylight. You click a button on your phone, checking the time…it’s definitely been longer than a few minutes, more like 5 hours. 

The knocking resumes, and you cough into your hand, grabbing some tissue on your bedside and blowing your nose. 

You stand, shivering in the cold air. 

Another knock. 

You’d shout at them if your throat wasn’t so sore. Quickly you grab the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around you, melting underneath its warmth as you make your way over. 

“I’m coming,” you murmur, sniffling. 

You unlock the door and open it, revealing…Duncan?

Now that you weren’t expecting. 

He stands before you holding a paper bag, eyes wide with concern, looking you up and down, “Oh baby,” he murmurs. 

“How did you know?” voice nasally. 

He brazenly walks past you and into your studio apartment, placing the bag onto a table, “You weren’t at the coffee shop,” he simply states, pulling off his leather jacket. 

“I called in sick,” closing the door and locking it. You’re surprised he made it here in one piece…your neighbourhood wasn’t exactly friendly. 

“I know, they told me,” he smiles at you, beginning to pull things out of the bag. 

“What’s all this?” shuffling over, eying up a cough medicine he’s pulled out. 

Duncan bites his lip, “I guess I kinda went overboard at the pharmacy,” glancing at the various little boxes, and containers, of medicine. 

You let out a stuffy snort, “Yeah, I think you did,” but you can’t help the soft smile that spreads across your lips, “Thank you though.” 

“There’s also some soup coming over in about half hour,” rubbing the back of his neck, a little blush rising to his cheeks.

“You really didn’t have to,” pulling the blanket tightly around yourself. 

He shrugs, “I wanted to,” approaching you slowly, raising his arm and placing the back of his hand against your forehead, “You have a slight fever.” 

You cough into your hand, “Sounds about right,” feeling slightly dazed. He wraps his arm around you, guiding you to your bathroom. 

“I’m prescribing a bath,” he murmurs into your hair, kissing your scalp before pushing the toilet lid down and seating you upon it, still wrapped up in your blanket. 

With a sigh you watch him turn the taps on, the sound of water splashing against the bottom of the tub; you really do need a bath, suddenly aware of how sweaty and clammy you feel. 

The bubble bath is poured in; he opts for the floral one you note, something more relaxing than your usual citrus; the one you use to wake yourself up in the morning. You can only just about smell it in the air, but the steam is at least helping to calm your cough. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” his voice breaking you out of your trance. 

“Honestly, it came on suddenly,” rubbing away the sleeping dust in one of your eyes with the back of your hand, “I only managed to call work before I fell asleep this morning.”

He purses his lips at you, still unimpressed it seems, “You’ve been working too hard.”

It slips out before you can help it, “Some of us don’t have a trust fund to rely on Dunc.” 

You regret it the moment it comes out, “I’m sorry I-”

He cuts you off, “It’s okay, and you’re right,” he sighs, testing the temperature of the water, “It’s ready now,” and he turns off the taps, looking at you expectantly. 

Quickly you undress, eager to get into the hot bath, your sweat damp clothes thrown onto the floor. He takes your blanket and leaves the room with it before returning, guiding you in by the hand, holding onto you tightly, keeping you balanced. 

It feels like heaven. 

He washes your hair, oh so gently, massaging your scalp deeply and tenderly; he’s really treating you like a princess. It’s a tad overwhelming but you don’t say anything, fearing it will end soon. 

As you step out of the bath he pats you down with a fresh towel, wrapping you up in it like a burrito. He sits you down on your bed, “Where’s your hair dryer?” stroking the skin of your cheek, tilting your chin up so you look at him. 

Your lip trembles ever so slightly, “On top of those drawers,” you nod in its general direction and he retrieves it, plugging it in at the bedside. 

Fingertips brush through your scalp as it dries, and you glance up at him to see his tongue poking out the side of his mouth, intense concentration in his eyes. You can’t help but smile. 

Once he deems your hair throughly dry he brushes through it carefully, making sure not to hurt you when he comes across a knot; it’s the most you’ve ever felt cared for since you were a child. 

He makes you take some medicine, guiding the spoon into your mouth, and you grimace at the taste, forcing it down your throat, “Gross,” you mutter, and he laughs softly. 

“Good girl,” patting your head, and you feel a warmth in the bottom of your stomach, “Stand up,” and you do so.

He removes the towel from you, and you shiver at the cold air, arms wrapping around your nude body, “Get in bed, I’ll warm you up soon,” throwing the towel onto your dirty clothes pile. 

You turn and realise he’s made your bed, and you waste no time getting underneath the blankets, shivering in anticipation, knowing that Duncan’s body heat will soon be joining you. 

There’s a knock at the door, and you frown in confusion, “Must be the soup,” Duncan murmurs, answering it, “Thank you,” he says to the man, handing over some notes, “keep the change,” and he takes the takeaway bag, closing the door and locking it. He places the bag on the table, with the medicine, taking out the container, and opening the drawer in the kitchen area. Once he’s found what he’s looking for he returns to your bed, sitting next to you. 

“Hungry?” he smiles, pulling off the lid, dipping the spoon in, and swirling the soup around. 

You nod, sitting up, pushing the pillows up with you so you can sit comfortably. 

He feeds you the soup slowly, a vegetable soup you think, though you can’t taste much of it. You’d think it would feel awkward, him feeding you like this but honestly it makes you feel cared for, the warmth and butterflies in your stomach increasing, with every little glance he gives you with those blue eyes. 

Once you finish it all, and he makes sure you do, stating that you need to eat it all in order to get better, he washes the container and spoon in the sink. He returns to the bed and begins undressing himself; you can’t help but admire his lean body. He’s down to his boxers when he joins you, a small smirk on his face, “Enjoy the show,” wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. 

You hum in delight, “Yes, would rate it 5 stars,” nose nuzzling into him, stomach full and satisfied.

He snorts gently, kissing your forehead, “How’s your head feeling?”

“Still a bit achey,” you whisper, eyes heavy. 

“I know what’ll help,” his fingertips now stroking the bottom of your stomach, edging closer to the space between your legs. You whimper softly, opening up to him without prompting, eager for his touch. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes into the curve of your neck, placing little kisses. 

He touches you gently, gathering your growing wetness and swirling your clit around with his fingers. 

“Fuck, _Duncan_ ,” you groan, hips bucking up, head tilting back into him. 

He works you slowly, and teasingly, so light with his touch that it makes you squirm. Usually he’s never this…soft, and its quickly making you a quivering mess. 

“Please…” hiding your face into his shoulder.

“Use your words, baby,” his voice deep and rough. 

“Please…daddy,” you practically whisper, face heating up, “I want more.” 

“You want my fingers inside you baby girl?” teasing your entrance, dipping them in only slightly before pulling them out and rubbing your clit. 

“ _Yes_ ,” thrusting up against him, “please daddy.”

“It’s okay baby, I’m gonna look after you,” kissing the top of your scalp, his fingers pushing inside you, slowly stretching you out. 

You let out a long whimper, eyes squeezing shut as he curls them inside you, biting your lip. 

Gradually he speeds up, finger fucking you ruthlessly, and you’re writhing beside him, so close to release. Your pussy throbbing and making lewd noises at his every movement. 

And then he’s using his thumb to rub at your clit and that’s all you need to push you over the edge. 

“Such a good girl,” he coos working you through it. 

You let out small cries, body convulsing as the pleasure rolls through you, your hot breath against the skin of his neck. 

“Mmm, thank you daddy,” you say breathlessly, his pace now slowing down to a halt. 

He pulls out of you carefully, holding his hand up from the covers to reveal cum soaked fingers. He licks them clean as always. 

It’d have you squirming for more if exhaustion wasn’t coming over you already. You snuggle into his chest, your breathing slowing, body relaxing into him, and he kisses your forehead, “Sleep well, baby.” 


	9. dark!xavier x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: slight dub con at first, spanking

You weren’t sure what Xavier’s intentions were, if it was a show of sportsmanship or what but when his hand slapped your ass, a grin on his face, as he said, what an, “amazing job,” you’d done during his jazzercise session…well…your reaction wasn’t something, someone should usually respond with. 

In hindsight, the proper reaction should’ve been to slap him round the face and leave, screaming at him to never touch you like that again. But no, instead you’d let out a gasp of pleasure, your cheeks reddening the instant you’d realised the noise you’d made.

Xavier looked at you with wide eyes, but that expression of shock quickly turned into a smirk, that is until you practically ran out of the studio, not looking back once.

You avoided the studio for a while, but you knew you’d be back there at some point, your body needing some sort of energetic release. Without Xavier’s jazzercise classes you were practically brimming with energy all the time, unable to keep yourself still during your work or at home, constantly needing to be doing something.

When you returned everything seemed fine; Xavier didn’t really pay much attention to you, he got on with the class and you were happy to finally be back. However, once the class was over, Xavier asked you to stay behind, stating he needed to talk to you about your absence.

Which is where you found yourself now, biting your lip nervously, fiddling with your hands in front of you, as Xavier looks you up and down.

“I don’t like when people don’t call ahead of time to let me know they’re not attending my classes,” he brings out a chair and sits down.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, “I-I’m sorry Xavier-”

“I know,” He interrupts you, “But I can’t tolerate that behaviour…I’m going to have to punish you. Over my knees, please.”

Your mouth drops at his words and you shake your head, “Excuse me, what?”

“Did I stutter? Over my knees. Now,” Xavier grabs your wrist and pulls you over his lap, “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop,” he murmurs into your ear. 

There’s a pause between both of you, him as he awaits your answer, and you as you consider his words. You can’t deny the feel of wetness growing between your legs as he practically manhandles you, and eventually you’re able to answer him, “Don’t…don’t stop,” your cheeks blushing a bright red as you hide your face.

He smiles at you darkly and suddenly he strikes your ass, the noise echoing throughout the empty studio. You release a cry, hips bucking into him, and you can feel your cunt aching, “Fuck!”

Xavier continues spanking you, until suddenly, he yanks your lycra shorts down, the cool air hitting your sore skin. You release a small sigh, your body shivering slightly as he strokes your bare ass gently, “You’re being so good for me…I should reward you, hm?”

“Please, Xavier…” you squirm in his lap, squeezing your thighs together to quell the throbbing of your clit. 

“Shh, open your legs for me baby.”


	10. jim x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: shower sex, dirty talk

The smell of the ocean clung to you during the drive home, and you could feel your hair frizzing from the salt in the water. Surfing with Jim was one of your favourite pastimes, but the aftermath was one you’d rather do without. 

You squirm uncomfortably in the passenger seat as Jim drives you both back to his house, and he glances to you at the movement, “You okay, babe?” 

“Just gonna need a shower when we’re at yours,” you murmur, looking forward to the warm water washing over your body, the smell of Jim’s shower gel filling your nose. 

Jim smiles at you, placing one of his hands on your knee, “That’s cool, I’ll grab you a towel when we get back.”

True to his word, once you arrive back at his place, he grabs you a towel and leads you to the bathroom, “No one should be home for a while still, so don’t worry about locking the door. Don’t want you falling and I can’t get in.” 

You nod and smile at your boyfriend’s concern, “I’ll be fine,” and you lean up, giving him a chaste kiss, taking the towel from him, “I’ll see you soon.” 

Jim watches you leave and you exaggerate your hip movements slightly, a grin on your face as you step inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You undress and turn the shower on, stepping inside once it’s warmed up slightly, and you let out a moan the moment the water hits your skin. 

You wash your hair, relieved to have that ocean smell out of it; it’s funny because on Jim you couldn’t get enough of the scent. 

Arms suddenly wrap around you from behind and you let out a squeal of shock, and you hear Jim’s soft laughter. 

“Jim! You asshole!” You try and elbow him at his sides, and he presses his nose into your throat, kissing the skin softly. 

“I’m sorry baby, just couldn’t resist joining you after your little teasing,” he nibbles at your pulse point and you moan softly, relaxing into his hold. 

“Oh, you noticed that?” You smirk a little, pressing your ass back into his crotch. 

“Indeed, I did,” Jim groans, spinning you around and pressing you up against the shower wall, kissing you roughly, wet mouths sliding over each other as the shower washes down over you both. 

He grabs onto your thighs, and hauls you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around him, holding onto him tightly. You wrap your arms around his neck, grabbing onto his wet hair, kissing him even harder, as you grind against each other, the tip of his cock teasing at your entrance but always just missing it and sliding over your clit. 

With a frustrated whine you bite his bottom lip, “Fuck me already!” 

Jim smirks and runs his nose over yours, kissing you softly, “You want my cock, baby girl? Want me to split you open?” 

He’s always had a penchant for dirty talk. 

“Please, need you inside me, now!” You demand, rutting against him desperately. 

With a deep kiss, he tilts his hips and slides into you in a smooth movement, making you release a sharp cry into his mouth. You pant as he picks up a the pace, your back sliding up and down the wet shower wall. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you squeal, back arching with every thrust. 

Jim grunts and moans, face pressed into your throat as he rolls his hips, practically bouncing you up and down on his cock. 

You grab his face and kiss him hard, the beginnings of your orgasm washing over you, your cunt clenching around his length. A harsh groan leaves you as you cum, and Jim’s hips stutter, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you, signalling his release as well. 

He continues fucking you through your orgasms, until he eventually slows down, panting heavily. 

A giggle leaves you as you pant along with him, and he laughs too, kissing you sweetly. 

“Well, we should certainly do that again sometime,” Jim teases, and you nod, your wet nose brushing against his. 


	11. duncan x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: shibari, edging, spanking, subspace, toys

“Safe word?”

Duncan’s voice breaks you out of your dazed state, and you turn to look at him over your shoulder. Currently your arms are tied back intricately, you can see the various knots and patterns he has made down the length of them. 

“Chanel,” you reply, breathlessly, accidentally rubbing against the rope that’s pressing into your cunt as you move slightly to try and get comfortable. 

The brunette watches in amusement as you try and move around before he settles a hand on your bare ass, stroking the skin gently, “Stay still.”

You do as he orders you, biting your lip as his fingers travel between your thighs, stroking your soaked folds slowly and teasingly. He hasn’t let you cum for over an hour now, stating you needed to learn, ‘patience.’

That simple touch has you whimpering in need and you hold your ass up for him. Big mistake. 

He removes his hand, making you whine at the loss, until he suddenly slaps down on your pussy hard. You let out a high pitched cry, eyes tearing up, his voice a low rumble as he speaks into your ear, “Didn’t I tell you to stay fucking still? Do that again and there will be no release for you tonight.” 

You swallow the spit in your mouth, “Yes, sir, ‘m sorry, sir,” you pant, pressing your face into the bedsheets, holding your body as still as possible, despite its shaking. 

“I know you can be a good girl for me, baby,” his voice now soft and tender, dragging you even further into subspace. 

“I’m a good girl,” you reply quietly, almost blissfully. 

Duncan smiles, “Yes, you are,” his hands tracing your body, the rope, the marks that litter your skin. 

You relax completely into him, a smile on your face as you sink completely into everything Duncan gives you. The noise of a vibrator fills the room and he pushes your legs open, moving the rope aside, lightly pressing the toy into your pussy. You moan quietly, and he presses it even harder, making you tremble slightly. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, and he turns the vibration up higher. 

“You can cum now, but if you do, this night is far from over,” he smirks. 


	12. xavier x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: sub!xavier, choking, slapping, hand job, cum eating

He’d been irritating you for weeks now with his cocky bravado and showing you up in front of everyone in the aerobics classes. 

The final straw was when he’d made a joke about you being a virgin in front of everyone, all of them laughing at your expense. You wait until he’s alone to confront him, approaching him from behind and turning him around roughly. You shove him into the side of a cabin, your hand wrapping around his throat tightly, “What the fuck was that about, you dick?” You growl, glaring up at him. 

Xavier looks at you with wide eyes, and for the first time since you’ve met him he’s lost for words. 

“Cat got your tongue, Xavier?” You sneer, squeezing his throat, and he lets out a small moan, which is when something pressing into your lower stomach gets your attention, and you glance down. 

He’s hard…like really fucking hard, and big…

An unexpected laugh leaves you and you look back up at him with a mocking grin, “Oh my god, you like this?”

“N-no-” he tries to argue back until you squeeze his throat again, massaging the sides of it, and he whimpers. 

“Yes you do…you really like this…” you tilt your head and watch as he tilts his head back for you, revealing more of his neck, “But oh, what should I do? I know nothing about this, being a virgin,” you hiss at him, and he whines. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that…” he looks away ashamed, and you grab his face with your other hand making him look towards you.

“So what did you mean by it, hm?”

Xavier takes a deep breath but doesn’t say anything, his face the picture of innocence, and you hate that, so you slap him, “Tell me!”

He gasps loudly, his breathing deep and fast, “I wanted your attention!” 

That makes you pause, looking up at him in shock, your eyes widening, “My attention? Don’t tell me, Xavier “Fuckboy” Plympton has a crush on me?” You let out a sharp laugh. 

His gaze tells you enough and you stop laughing, “Oh fuck, you do.”

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, and before you can even think you lean up and kiss him roughly. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Xavier,” you moan into his mouth, and he grabs onto you moaning into your kisses. 

“I am,” another kiss, “I’m a fucking idiot,” he grabs a handful of your hair and tugs at it, making you groan. 

You push him back into the wall of the cabin, cupping his bulge roughly, “You want this baby? Want to cum for me?” 

“Jesus [Y/N]-” he whines, cutting off when you slide your hand inside his trousers, touching his cock directly. 

Wrapping your hand back around his throat, you begin pumping your other up and down his length; he’s soaked in precum and you spread it around with every movement, wet noises leaving his crotch. 

“Just look at you, so fucking desperate to be used,” you say sweetly, a smug smile on your face, and Xavier can only nod and whimper in response, throwing his head back and bucking into your hand. 

He makes such sweet, pretty noises, his cheeks flushing red the closer he moves to release, and you can tell he’s close with the way his cock keeps throbbing in your hand, the way his panting is becoming heavier and heavier. 

“Oh baby, you can cum, don’t hold back now,” you twist your hand a particular way, and suddenly he lets out a loud cry, and you press your fingers into his mouth, shutting him up. His dick twitches and you feel the warmth of his cum spread across your palm as you work him through his release, “That’s it baby boy, so fucking good for me.” 

Xavier mewls softly, and you lean up, kissing him softly before pulling away from him completely, your hand covered in his cum. You smirk at him as he shakily tries to keep himself up, leaning against the cabin. 

“I’ll see you tonight, baby,” you wink, licking your hand as you walk away, a smug smirk on your face. 


	13. duncan x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: knife play, gun play, role play being kidnapped and interrogated, face slapping, blow job

The knife trails down your throat, and between your breasts, making your breath hitch, and you find yourself arching into you without even realising, “Fuck Duncan,” you moan. 

He looks at you unimpressed, the knife threateningly pressing into your skin, “I guess you didn’t hear me, who’s the leak?” 

You smirk up at him, “I guess you didn’t hear me,” you retort, “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps you’re not taking me seriously enough,” he begins walking somewhere into the room and you hear a drawer open, the small clink of him placing the knife down. You focus intensely on whatever he’s doing, your heart racing at the thought of what he could come up with next… 

The idea had been somewhat yours, trying to think of ways to spice up things in the bedroom; you’d read about role playing on the internet and you proposed the idea to Duncan who’d looked disinterested at the time…until he surprised you with this. He’d caught you as you were leaving the office, covering your mouth with his hand and forcing you into his car. He had bound and gagged you, stroking your face gently and kissing your nose, whispering the safe word in your ear which is when you understood exactly what was going on. 

His steps come back to you, and you feel a cold metal at the edge of your jaw, the black tip of a gun coming in sight and you let out a small gasp, “Duncan!” You look up at him with wide eyes, and he grins darkly. 

“Perhaps this will persuade you to talk, hm?” and you shiver at his words. The gun traces your lips and you open your mouth, taking the tip inside. The taste of metallic hits you and you moan, tracing the side of the muzzle with the tip of your tongue, spit dripping from the edges of your mouth. 

You can hear Duncan groan from beside you and he steps into your view, as he slowly pushes the gun in and out, “You’re a little slut, aren’t you? I’ve been going this entirely the wrong way,” He pulls the gun out from your mouth and sets it down, unbuckling his belt. 

The throbbing of your cunt has become too much and you can only squeeze your thighs together, letting out a feeble whine as Duncan pulls his cock out and your mouth waters even more. He’s so swollen and thick, precum dripping from the tip and you instinctively lean forward to take him into your mouth. 

He laughs at your eagerness and slaps your cheek roughly, before grabbing your face and shoving his cock into your mouth, making you gag slightly. 

“When I’m done with you, you’ll fucking talk,” he growls, fucking your throat, lewd sounds filling the room. 


	14. jim x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: sub!jim, dom!reader, oral (female receiving), hair pulling, praise kink

There was something not many people knew about Jim…that in the dark of the night, when no one else was around, and it was just him and you…well he liked it rough. 

The kind of rough that included dragging him wherever you wanted him, slapping his face, biting into his tan skin, leaving marks all over his body. It felt good, good to let himself go to you, he didn’t want to use anymore when you were taking control of him. 

He found himself right now, kneeling on the floor, looking up at you with innocent eyes as you tug at his brown waves, directing him to the space between your thighs. 

“That’s my good boy,” you say softly, and he preens under your words, eagerly running his tongue through your folds, sucking on your little bud of nerves. 

Hearing your moans brings him to an entirely new level of satisfaction, his cheeks reddening, head growing fuzzy with every harsh tug of his hair, practically almost ripping them from the root. 

Jim whines and presses his face as close as possible, nose squishing slightly as he moves his face side to side, batting his eyelashes up at you. He sees you smile down at him proudly and his cock throbs, and he moans. 

“Fuck baby boy, you’re gonna make me cum,” you groan, biting your lip seductively down at him, before rolling your head back against the wall, “So good for me.” 

He hums in agreement, sucking at your clit even harder, brushing his tongue over it, and he feels your thighs tightening around him, hips bucking, and urging him on, He feels your cum hit his tongue before you make any noise, your body tensing and trembling, almost cutting off his air, but he continues, working you through your release. 

You heavily pant against the wall, and laugh softly, grinning down at him, running your nails through his hair, letting out a hiss, “That’s enough baby,” but he ignores you and continues lapping up your dripping cum, too lost in you. 

Sharp nails press into his scalp, yanking at his hair and pulling him away, and he looks up at you desperately, “I-I’m sorry…you taste so good…” 

You tug at his hair again and with your other hand you stroke his cheek, “Shh baby,” you kneel down in front of him and kiss him softly, “Misbehave again and I won’t let you cum,” you say into his mouth. 

“I’ll be good,” he glances to your lips, needing another kiss. 

A smirk spreads across your face, and you run your thumb over his bottom lip before kissing him again, pressing your tongue inside and he moans, feeling you palming at his cock. 


	15. outpost!michael x fem!reader*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings: physical/medical examination, fingering, squirting, latex gloves, dubious consent

“Spread your legs.” 

You raise an eyebrow at his words, and you let out a sharp laugh, taken by surprise, “Oh…no, honey,” you look up at him, and he’s far from impressed. 

Langdon looks at you, and steps away from where he’s sitting on the desk beside you, “Part of your cooperating includes a physical examination,” he brings out some latex gloves from the drawer, and your mouth drops. 

“Excuse me?!” your eyes widen, and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to smile at your reaction, as he takes his rings off his fingers, grabbing the gloves and sliding them on. 

They snap against his skin as he releases them, and you jump slightly at the noise, “I’ll need you to lay down on the bed, and pull your skirt up,” he says matter of fact. 

“I-I don’t know…” you tightly grip onto your purple dress, nerves running through you. You’d never had someone else touch you down there, not even a gynaecology exam. 

“If you don’t, you fail,” he sighs, “You don’t want to die, do you?” He looks to you with a frown, slowly approaching you again. 

“I…no, no! I’ll do it…” You stand up, making your way to the bed, and you reach under your skirt, bringing the mandatory white cotton panties down. You place them at the end of the bed, kicking your shoes off, before laying down with your knees up, thighs pressing tightly together as panic begins to rise. 

“Deep breaths,” he purrs, placing a hand on your knee, and he gathers the skirt of your dress and pushes it up over your thighs, bundling at your hips. 

He’s gentle as he guides your knees open, baring yourself to him and you can feel the air brush your cunt, making you shiver, your breath hitching. 

Langdon’s fingertips trace down your thighs, and you feel him spread your folds open. You can’t bare to look down, staring up at the ceiling, hoping to get this over with quickly. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask quietly, practically a whisper, as you take a deep breath again. 

“So far, yes,” his voice a deep rumble, and it makes you glance down to see his eyes dark, staring at your pussy intensely, “But I just need to check a couple things.” 

You nod and bite your lip, and you feel him brush over your clit, pulling the hood back slightly, “What are you doing?” 

“Just making sure everything is in working order,” he doesn’t spare you a glance, continuing to rub at your clit, making your cheeks heat up as a moan leaves you. 

“Sorry!” You try to close your legs, and he pushes them back open.

“It’s a natural reaction, don’t apologise,” he smirks up at you, and you can feel wetness dripping down from your entrance to your ass, and you look away ashamed. 

“Are we almost done?” You feel yourself tearing up with embarrassment, and he coos at you softly. 

“Soon, dear, relax for me,” his finger tracing through your folds and you take a deep breath, sniffling slightly. 

There’s a slight stretch at your entrance and you gasp softly as you realise he’s pressing a finger inside you. Slowly he moves it in and out, and you can hear the wet noises you’re making, and your arousal builds, clit throbbing to be touched again. 

He curls it slightly and you buck your hips, a high pitched whine leaving you, “ _Langdon!_ ”

“Call me Michael, dear,” he murmurs, and there’s more of a stretch, another finger being added to you. 

“Micha-” you whimper, throwing your head back as he wiggles his fingers inside you, ruthlessly fucking you with them, “Oh god!”

And then he begins rubbing at your clit and the wet noises only grow louder through the quiet room, “That’s it dear, let yourself go,” and you moan at his words, spreading your legs open even more. 

It’s as if he knows your body inside and out, in a few minutes you can hear the gushing of your fluids; your body trembles and shakes as you pathetically squeal, and with every thrust of his fingers more cum squirts out, soaking the sheets beneath you. 

“P-please! I can’t-” Another orgasm hits you, cutting you off and he slows down gradually before stopping entirely, your cunt clenching around him lightly in the aftermath of your orgasm. 

You look at him with wide eyes as he pulls his hand up from between your legs, the latex glove dripping with your cum and he smiles at the sight, “You’ve passed, dear.” 


End file.
